


Five People Natasha Romanov Has Danced With

by Jain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5 Things, Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Community: purimgifts, Gen, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Previously Remixed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain





	Five People Natasha Romanov Has Danced With

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arsenic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/gifts).



The man introduced to her as the Winter Soldier looked her over assessingly. Natalia looked back, her expression carefully blank.

"You're very beautiful," he said in a tone that made it a simple statement of fact, rather than a subtle insult or veiled threat. "You really haven't learned to dance before?"

"Not this kind of dancing," she said evasively. The only dancing she'd learned to do so far involved knives and fists, but the Winter Soldier didn't need to know that. Let him believe that she'd spent her share of nights clubbing in Moscow, gyrating to technopop like other girls her age.

"This kind is easier than Krav Maga," he said, apparently reading the subtext without difficulty. "You'll pick it up quickly."

"You're speaking from experience?" she asked, genuinely curious. She'd heard the rumors about the Winter Soldier: that he'd been remade so thoroughly that all that was left of him was Department X's conditioning and his own muscle memory.

Nothing in the rumors had suggested that he could be courteous, maybe even a little kind.

His eyes flashed--with anger? annoyance? hurt?--but all he said was, "Tell me if I'm wrong after your first lesson," and turned away to lower the needle onto the record.

* * *

"I wondered where you'd gotten to," Barton said, joining Natasha on the balcony.

"I needed some air," she said in deliberately Russian-accented English. "And just look at the view!" She gestured at the lánchíd--the Chain Bridge--spanning the Danube like a string of diamonds.

"Beautiful," he agreed.

Zoltán Nagy--current head of the Magyar Nemzeti Bank and suspected HYDRA member--escorted his date back inside, and Natasha sighed inwardly. If the man kept moving, then it would be easier for him to notice the couple tailing him. She peeked into the ballroom, where Nagy had joined a group of financiers standing near the string quartet; neither she nor Barton had any plausible reason to join them.

"How's your csárdás?" she asked.

"Not as good as my waltz, but better than my tango," Barton said promptly and offered her his arm.

* * *

"When you said we had a mission, this wasn't exactly what we thought you had in mind, sir," Clint said.

Coulson shrugged. "Bonding with your coworkers is an important part of the job."

If she were with anyone other than Clint and Coulson, Natasha wouldn't say anything, but as it was: "I bond with my coworkers all the time," she said.

"Trading quips while fighting for your lives isn't most people's idea of an ideal bonding experience," Coulson said dryly.

"It works for me," Clint said.

"Well, tonight you'll both be trying something a little more mundane. I'm not going to order you to have a good time. I _am_ , however, going to order you to fake it well enough that no one else can tell. You have to stay until half past midnight; you have to drink something bubbly when the ball drops; and you have to dance with at least three people each. And dancing with each other doesn't count."

Clint raised an eyebrow at Natasha, who nodded a 'go ahead' to him.

"Could I have this dance, sir?" he asked.

Coulson sighed. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?" Still, he joined Clint on the dance floor readily enough. Natasha was pretty sure she was the only one who could see how much it eased Clint's mind to have proof that Coulson really was forcing their participation at SHIELD's New Year's Ball out of good intentions rather than a desire to embarrass them. Not that Natasha would have felt embarrassed regardless, but Clint would.

Natasha cast her eye around the room's periphery in search of her own partner, then grinned inwardly when she found the perfect choice. Maria Hill was sitting at a table with Nick Fury, though neither of them was talking to the other; his 'don't fuck with me' vibes were almost palpable, but Maria's toes were tapping to the music, and she was neglecting her drink in favor of watching her coworkers twirl around the dance floor.

Natasha made her way across the crowded floor and smiled when Maria looked up at her. "Agent Hill. I don't suppose you'd care to dance?"

Maria's eyes widened, but she gave the question due consideration before she finally smiled back. "I really would, Agent Romanov. Thanks for asking." She took the lead effortlessly, one arm slipping behind Natasha's waist, and Natasha let herself enjoy the quick, light rhythm of their waltz.

* * *

"Do you dance with all your personal assistants?" Natasha asked, slightly impressed ( _very_ slightly) at the ease with which Stark was guiding her through a foxtrot.

"Only the ones who are spying on me for shadowy, quasi-military agencies. And Pepper. So, you and Pepper, basically."

"Out of a pool of..."

"I don't know, twenty? Twenty-five people? Most of them were, let's be honest, pretty terrible; they didn't last very long. Pepper was the best, but she was _too_ good, which is why she's no longer my PA. And you would have been perfect except for the fact that you kind of don't exist, which I'm still a little disgruntled by. I mean, I realize SHIELD has substantial resources at its disposal, but so do I! _And_ I'm a world-class computer genius. You shouldn't have been able to pass the Stark Industries background check; it's an embarrassment to me and my company."

"Sorry," Natasha said insincerely.

Stark shrugged. "No, don't worry about it. It's fine. Always good to know what you're up against, right?"

The only reason Natasha didn't show a reaction was that she _never_ showed a reaction unless she wanted to. This was the first indication she'd yet seen that Stark might have anything approaching the emotional maturity to handle working for SHIELD. He still wouldn't fit--he was too broken in all the wrong ways, and the patches his wealth and influence had afforded him only made things worse--but she knew now she'd have to view that as a loss rather than a relief.

* * *

"We never did get that dance," Steve concluded, a wry note in his voice. At some point during his story, Clint, Tony, and Bruce had fallen asleep--varying degrees of alcohol and exhaustion dragging them under--and what had begun as a mildly funny anecdote had transformed into a quiet confidence.

Thor nodded solemnly and raised his glass in silent tribute.

Almost to her own surprise, Natasha found herself saying, "I can teach you sometime. I like to dance."

* * *

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [And Here I Go, Dancing With You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7575913) by [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva)




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